Lone Ranger on Lone Island Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes, I thought, “Surely this is the end. I am currently tied on a spit and the merciless horrors are roasting me and I am engulfed in flames.” I heard a voice next to my ear, and it said something like, “O gala—”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but I have not a SINGLE idea what you mean. Could you bring me back to my ship?” It was evident my mind was foggy, otherwise I wouldn’t have acted so dumb.

I tried my best to take in the shocking scene around me. I was in the middle of a jungle lying beside a puny fire with about 20 other men standing on the other side. What appeared to be the chief told the men something, and they scurried off. I sat there for about an hour, until a man came back. He grabbed my arm and pulled me deep into a jungle. I found myself standing in a tree house that was not so stable.

The next few things happened fast. One minute I was standing in there alone, and the next I was engulfed with items that ranged from huge velvet purple cushions big enough to make a bed for three people, to the fattest and ugliest roasted pigs in the whole universe. I was so relieved that these people weren’t going to hurt me yet. I stacked up the cushions and started treating myself to these fatty foods.

Soon, I started to get sick from eating all the food offered. It looked like they had pooled all the stolen meat, stripped it until it had no lean part left, and gave the rest to me. For instance, one of the “apple tarts” were filled with sugar!

I had been given more cushions for the next couple of days, so I put them on the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. The chief occasionally visited me.. When the chief entered, I stood on my stack of cushions in a diving position and jumped high enough to dive headfirst into my carefully arranged mountain of food.

After a few days, everyone on the island got to know me. They obeyed my every wish. I felt like a king. There was one man who knew just a little bit of English. He could only say random words, but seems to understand everything you say, even if you rattled a long lecture with complicated scientific words at him. I always asked him where in the world Noah could be. He would stare at me and point to his right.

One day, the chief returned with a man with pure white skin, as if he had never seen the sun before. The man circled me, and examined me carefully. He leaned towards me, his big bushy moustache wiggled as he said “Spanish” in Spanish. I knew some Spanish, but I wasn’t going to be comfortable with speaking it. My mother taught me a few words, but I only memorized how to say this word.

The man looked bewildered, thought again, snapped his fingers, and said the word “French” in French. I failed French exactly the way I failed Spanish. I shook my head. The man’s eyes bugged wide open. He tried many languages after that. He tried Russian, Mandarin, Croatian, Czech, Arabic, Italian, Hebrew, Irish, and even Gibberish (I think)! Finally, he said wearily, “English?” I jumped up and cried for joy. I said, “What took you so long?” The person said, “Oh, I just happened to know all of those languages. I will be your translator here on this island. My name is Doodooda.”

After the chief left, Doodooda said, “You should probably know this: first of all, these guys are cannibals.”

My jaw dropped wide open. Doodooda continued, “All those goodies are supposed to make you fat enough to eat. The cushions are supposed to make you lazy, so that you lose you ability to run. Good for you, though, the chief thinks you enjoy it so much, he isn’t going to feast on you for a long time. Unfortunately, if you were one of those other people who—”

“Hold on,” I interrupted. “What do you mean ‘others’?”

“Just listen!” Doodooda yelled. “I’m the first one to land here, came as a 13 year old teen. They wanted to kill me, but then decided to use me to learn what the others thought about them. So, I’m trapped here, but I blab their secrets out to all the captives and help them to escape. Now, you just wait here while I lie to the chief about what you think of this.” Doodooda talked to the chief outside and came back to me.

“Alright, I’m going to give you an escape route. They have only one boat, use it and take that away tonight. This island is tiny. Someone landed on the other side just before you. He was too stubborn to listen to me, so now they’re saving his body to go with yours as a feast. If he never landed, you should have been dead a long time ago, or you would have no boat. So, you are lucky. Escape by the boat tonight. They should be sleeping. Okay? By the way, you should really check whether you can still walk or run after all these days trapped here. ”

At night, I was sitting up in bed. I knew it was time to escape, so I got up and nearly fell headfirst out of the door. I slowly, and groggily, put my foot on the ladder. When I got down, I saw ten men under the tree with long shiny knives that glistened in the dark night. I scrambled down, and the men saw me. I tried to lie that I needed water, but they were skeptical. I headed to the big sea, with the men at my heels. I started to run, and I decided that I probably wouldn’t live if I couldn’t keep the distance at at least four meters, and I had to get to the rowboat.

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Meet the writer

Michelle Zhou

Hello. My name is Michelle. I am currently in grade four. I go to Silver Stream Public School. I enjoy reading comics and writing short stories from the top of my brain. I have an identical twin sister named Amelie. I like doodling, skiing, making myself dizzy, and doing handstands under the water. I like experimenting with computers, but I get into trouble. The only successful pets I have now are two nine-year-old fish without names. If you were to put me into one of the categories, Girl or Tomboy, I have one half here, and one half there. I will do almost ANYTHING possible to continue sleeping in most cases. That is all you need to know about me.